The Answer, My Friend, Is Changing in the Wind
Posted on 03/04/23 at 11:54pm by Kenny Freeman
Event: ReVival 24
It has been three days since ReVival 22 aired on the ACE Network, and if you’re wondering why we’re still at the Amway Center, well…Kenny Freeman ran into the broom closet the night of, scared to death of the wrath of Ivan Stanislav after a rough exchange on the ol’ Jabber machine, and that was basically the end of that.
On this moist Monday afternoon, however, we find the de facto leader of the Masters of the Multiverse…B-Team still sitting inside the still, calm darkness of the broom closet. As it turns out, no shows have happened over the course of the weekend, leaving Kenny to his own devices until the door finally cracks open. Kenny’s eyes struggle to adjust to the light…but when they do, they see one of the fine members of the Amway Center janitorial team, an older gentleman who looks very confused by the sight of someone hanging out in a broom closet.
“Are you okay, sir?” The gentleman asks, widening the door slightly as Kenny slowly rises to his feet. “Why are you in this closet?”
Kenny steps out of the broom closet, staring first at the janitor before looking around the hallway of the Amway Center, a sense of nervousness on his face as he replies to the inquiry.
“It’s…it’s a long story, sir. Have you seen any wrestlers around here?”
The confusion on the janitor’s face only grows as he too now looks around before responding.
“Wrestlers? It is Monday, my guy,” the janitor states with a slight, nervous chuckle. “Ain’t no wrestling to be had on Mondays. That was all on Friday, tonight is racketball.”
This piques Kenny’s interest, but before he can ask about who’s playing in the hotly-contested round tonight a shimmering blue light can be seen from the distance.
“Oh, oh no,” Kenny says flatly, a small sigh escaping from his lips in the process. “What are you doing here?”
We see who this remark is addressed to as Aeon Khronos and a couple of Kenny’s new–shall we say “friends”–approach, the question garnering a look of curiosity from the Wanderer of Time and Space.
“Well that’s a fine how do you do,” Aeon replies with a chuckle, motioning to the other Kennys flanking him on either side. One, a short and stout fellow like the teapot song…the other, tall and rather lanky. “We realized you hadn’t gotten back on the road just yet, and wanted to help give a little nudge to get you back on track.”
This only builds up frustration in Kenny-PRIME, who shakes his head with another sigh.
“Oh, no,” Kenny insists, turning his back to the trio as he gears up to make his exit. “I’ve done what I set out to do…try and win that Alias tournament match, fail, and get myself ready for a Battle Royal in a few weeks that I may or may not have a shot of winning. I’m gonna head back to my hotel and crash for a nice, long nap, a well-deserved one at that.”
Aeon just chuckles at that, shaking his head quickly in response.
“Oh no, you’re not. We took a quick shortcut, to roughly a month from now. You sure as hell aren’t taking a nap between now and Culture Shock, my friend…you’ve gotta go up against Winds of Change.”
“Okay,” Kenny says reluctantly, the sigh getting heavier as he ponders the implications of this revelation. “So me, and one of these Kennys, up against Joe Fontaine and Sid Fraid-o-bears. I can dig that vibe.”
This causes Aeon to shrug with a slight smirk.
“Unless you want to go find Randall, that is.”
Kenny-PRIME does a double take in response to this, staring Aeon down as he replies.
“Wait, you mean to tell me that’s an option?”
“Always has been,” Aeon replies, his smirk widening…much to the anger of Kenny-PRIME.
“You son of a–”
Hold up a second. Pause. Let’s think this over.
There’s a strategy to this, isn’t there? Your boy Kenny can use this opportunity as an advantage against the Winds of Change. So, let’s break it down.
Joe Fontaine, a man of many talents. Sid Phillips, a man of one.
Joe is damn, damn good at the high-flying stuff, and has an acute sense of technical prowess. Sid can hit a nasty powerbomb.
But I still have the element of surprise on my side.
The last anyone saw of Randall Schwartz was in Mexico, when he got his arm broken by Kazama something or other…oh boy, Lindsay’s gonna be mad when she finds out I can’t even remember her kid’s name.
Oh right, Kazuhiro. Thank goodness Jabber has an archive. Crisis averted.
Randall got his arm broken and as far as anyone knows, is still out there wandering around Mexico, probably looking for a doctor that can accept Multiverse Bucks as payment.
Multiverse Bucks, don’t leave your inflection point without ‘em.
So now, Aeon is telling me we can go find the man, and hope he’s healed up enough to handle Lord knows how many powerbombs from Sid.
Or, I can take advantage of the fact I’ve got two men with similar mindsets and vastly different movesets, and combine our in-ring intelligence to get the upperhand on the Winds of Change.
Yeah, I like the sound of that…wait, would we still be the Masters of the Multiverse B-Team? Maybe the K-Team, K as in Kenny? Or something else entirely?
Gosh, this is a difficult thing to process.
Maybe I should stick to teaming with Randall for this. I still need to find the poor bastard, after all…hey, wait a minute.
We have a whole multiverse at our disposal, don’t we? I can team up with a Randall Schwartz, and be done with it. Yeah, I dig that idea.
Shit, I’m rambling on in my mind way too long. Where was I going with this?
“We have another one running around, he can tag up with me,” Kenny finally replies, after roughly three minutes of thinking it over in his head. This is met with a look of confusion from Aeon, who grimaces at the thought of that Randall getting into the ring.
“Are you sure about that? The one you’re talking about barely knows anything more than a half-nelson and a roll-up.”
“I mean, it’s not that much worse,” Kenny retorts with a nervous chuckle, realizing exactly the risk he’s taking with a last-minute substitute. With that, an orange light begins filling the room as a portal appears…and seconds later, we’re left with only a very, very confused janitor in the hall, a faint urine spot on his pants as we fade to black.
Or do we?
Roughly Two Weeks Later
Somewhere in Mexico
Miles away from the venue where Lucha Especial 01 was held, and long after any attempts to search for the man have ceased, we find a scraggly-looking Randall Schwartz quite literally tripping over his own beard as he continues his search for his next meal. He arrives at a nearby food bank, where a younger woman offers him a bottle of water and a tuna sandwich. Randall can barely speak, but gives his regards to the kind stranger as he takes a seat nearby to scarf down half the sandwich and guzzle down the water. Before he can take another bite, he sees a crimson red light emanating from above…but no further visual, only a faint and distinctly masculine voice speak to him with an Austrian accent.
“Get you ass to Houston. Do it! Do it now!”
And just as quickly as it appeared, the red light is gone…leaving us with a visibly-frightened Randall, whose fright quickly turns into frustration as he realizes the half-sandwich has vanished into thin air.
“Son of a–where’d my sandwich go!?”
“Sweet, there’s half a sandwich left!”
Inside a hotel room near the Toyota Center stands a very hungry Kenny Freeman, assuming the half-sandwich is a complimentary item of the facility as he grabs it from the mini-fridge before taking a big bite out of it. He munches on it as he turns his attention to Aeon and the, for lack of a better identification, “Classic” Randall Schwartz, the latter seated upon the hotel bed.
“So where was I?” Kenny inquires, still oblivious to the strange circumstances of the moment and how it all ties together.
“Something about powerbombs, Kenny,” replies the Classic Randall, looking rather nervous about being back in the ring for the first time in months. “Remind me why you couldn’t just, y’know, team with one of yourselves or something?”
“All part of the plan, my man.”